


a rose by any other name

by orphan_account



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Study, How Do I Tag, M/M, Minor Character Death, No Beta We Die Like August, izumi is mentioned for a single line sorry queen ily, mentions of risky game and act 2 events so spoiler alert?, some angst but mostly comfort i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:55:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24273175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: in which hisoka sees traces of august in a poet he's come to care for, and he tries to separate the two entities by watching and taking everything in. it's painful, but for the sake of the present and the future, he does his best to learn anyways.
Relationships: Arisugawa Homare/Mikage Hisoka, August & Mikage Hisoka, Mikage Hisoka & Utsuki Chikage
Comments: 8
Kudos: 53





	a rose by any other name

**Author's Note:**

> first fic to the a3 fandom ,,, orz a3 has my metaphorical dick in a chokehold and i've been unable to stop thinking about it since falling into this hell. this is also my first fanfic ever so DKSLKSD sorry in advance for any ooc ,,, i just have hshm + august brainrot. *pointing* i just think they're neat.
> 
> ofc, title from shakespeare's "romeo & juliet" because 1) why not and 2) haha romijuli go brr it's the beginning of the reborn mankai company

hisoka reminds himself that homare isn't who he wants him to be, despite all the painful, fleeting similarities that makes sleep nearly impossible. if nothing else, it shows in all the ways the poet is differently loud — but still loud all the same — as well as a sort of caring tenderness that he had missed and taken for granted.

it's unfair to homare, because the man is so much more than a replacement of who august was; hisoka knows this much, but still, they overlap, again and again, until he's left breathless and gasping. for all that homare claims to be unable to comprehend emotion, the poet is surprisingly receptive to his needs; he's always well-stocked on marshmallows, and despite being an awfully noisy pillow, hisoka finds a modicum of comfort in his presence. the loudness of his voice has always been able to drown out the white noise of his thoughts, and even if homare's lap isn't an ideal spot for a nap, hisoka has slept in arguably worse places before.

he tries to not recall the times he's fallen asleep on the streets or in the middle of a mission during his early days at the organization, back when he still had april and august by his side —

hisoka reins himself back in, despite how tantalizingly easy it was to fall back on old habits, to hold everyone at an arm's length in order to protect others from being hurt because of him, to protect he himself. he doesn't think about how difficult it was to prepare for _mystery_ , and he especially doesn't think about how homare, his noisy, eccentric roommate, had opened up to the others with the events leading up to the play.

for a selfish, selfish poet and chaser of the arts, homare is both surprisingly unsure and confident in himself. he's much like august, who pulled both of his beloved children along with his whims, but despite all the mishaps and the arguments that resulted between himself and april, hisoka enjoyed those times. maybe that was why he had slowly allowed homare to stand behind him, both as actors in their respective roles and as a person he could come to trust, because homare is kind and doesn't have the kind of ability to subdue hisoka. there's no fear to be found associated with homare, aside from the lingering sense of unease that just like august, he could just easily walk out of his life —

— but he won't. hisoka knows this much; homare might not be as invested in the stage as some other members of the reformed winter troupe, but there's still an unmistakable passion that shines through all his extravagance. he's loud and takes up space, but hisoka knows his fair share of loud people; there's august, who was almost unbearably cheerful and optimistic about their circumstances, even at the very end; there's the director, whose kindness and patience and deep-rooted love for theater is still something that he admires; hell, even chikage is loud — he's loud in the way that the two are always able to fall into an easy banter, even after the events that led to him attempting to take his revenge on hisoka.

_"december,"_ august had called.

_"hisoka,"_ homare exclaims, his words embellished with everything that made the poet uniquely himself.

the name of "mikage hisoka" isn't his own, but still, it belongs to him now. it's not so bad, hearing homare use that name because to him and the rest of the reformed winter troupe, hisoka is just hisoka.

as he lifts his head and directs the gaze of his sleepy, half-lidded eyes to the man muttering to himself about the artistry of poetry, hisoka lets a small smile form on his lips. this isn’t so bad, he thinks. in the moment there is just homare and his words, and within the walls of their shared room, he thinks he's happy to be the only person to bear witness to homare in his purest form.

of course, the illusion breaks when homare allows his gaze to shift towards the only other person in the room.

"oh, hisoka-kun! how rare of you to be awake during one of my readings. perhaps this calls for a celebratory poem...?"

"stupid arisu," he says back in turn, but not unfondly, "you were being too noisy and i couldn't sleep with you talking like that."

"ah, but my sincerest apologies! it's truly a shame that you turn your head at these masterful works, but alas, there's nothing to be done. since you're awake, however, would you care to indulge me by lending an ear to a poem or two?"

hisoka yawns, feigning boredom masked as consideration; even if he doesn't truly understand how homare's heart and mind works, he could still appreciate listening to his noisy voice. it's different from what he's used to with august and april, but thus far, homare hasn't been an unwelcome change.

in _risky game_ , he promised to both august and himself that he'll continue to move forward with his life as the actor "mikage hisoka". august was a man of the past, and although hisoka understands that the memory of his precious family isn't something he'll ever let himself willingly forget, he also knows that august only exists in the figments of both his and chikage's minds, now. homare isn't august, and he'll never be august's replacement, because that's unfair to everyone he knows.

however, in the wake of their shared similarities, hisoka allows himself a moment of peace and longing.

"your poems don't ever make any sense, arisu."

"but this isn't refusal, hisoka-kun?"

"... no, it's not."

the smile that spreads across homare's face is as bright and vibrant as the summer (august) sun, and for a moment, hisoka sees nothing but a beautiful rose.

he wonders if he can protect this rose from the dangers of the harsher world, unlike how he failed to protect his sun from back then.


End file.
